


Two birds

by JokeOfTheDay



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Game: Batman: The Enemy Within, M/M, Post-Canon, Sometime in the future, not sure if this counts as a fix it, villian route bad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JokeOfTheDay/pseuds/JokeOfTheDay
Summary: Batman is 100% done with John's bs.
Relationships: John Doe/Bruce Wayne, Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just needed to get it out of my system. maybe there will be more.

“No.”

“What do you mean No?”

“…You want your revenge?” challenged Bruce defiantly. “Come and take it. I won’t fight you any longer. You want me? Well, you have me. I surrender.”

Bruce strode forth with purpose. He began to unbuckle his utility belt, tossing it on the floor.

“Wha..” John started. “What.” Bruce ignored him flatly and proceeded to remove his gauntlets. Batarangs clattered to the floor.

“Well. You know, as much as I enjoy the prospect of a sexy little strip tease, I feel like you’re forgetting something.” said John, eyebrows wiggling. “I’m the bad guy here.” He shook a finger in reproach. “You’re the heh..”hero” of the story. I set the scene. Start some chaos and mayhem, we fight, kaboom, some people go splat, you save the day, round of applause! Now quit fucking around and stick to the goddamn script!”

“I meant it.” Bruce insisted. “I’ve been thinking. This course we’re on, it’s a one way street. If we go down this route, one of us is going to end up killing the other. And I really don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Darling, it’s sweet of you to act like you care, and I’ve be darned if that isn’t the most you’ve ever said to me in a long while..but lets get this straight. What you *really* mean is that you don’t want me to hurt anyone else, isn’t that it?” countered John lazily. He flipped open one of his knives, an elegant iridescent balisong. Open. Close. Open. Close. Twirl round and round. His movements were graceful and hypnotic.

“But lets say that if you give up the game, what’s there to stop me from razing your beloved city to the ground hm?” He snapped the knife shut.

“Nothing.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you..” John drew a hand through his hair in mock exasperation. “This is another one of your tricks isn’t it Bats? You’re trying to pry something out of me. There’s another one of your little sidekicks waiting in the wings isn’t there?”

“No. There’s no one else with me. I haven’t informed anyone about your location.”

“I don’t believe you.” John started to pace. “Batman always has a plan, they all say. Hell, even his backup plans have backup plans, and so on and so forth etcetera. I mean, that degree of fastidiousness sounds absolutely pathological when you put it that way, but then again I’m supposed to be the crazy one.” He twirled a finger next to his head for dramatic effect, winking in Bruce’s general direction.

“I don’t. I’m not planning anything. I swear.”

“And why should your word mean anything to me hm?” sniped John contentiously. “You can swear on your dead mother’s grave for all I care.”

There was a pause. With a sigh, Bruce reached up and undid the clasp on his cowl.

“..because I’m talking to you, not as Batman, but as me.”

The cowl feel to the floor uselessly. Acid green eyes locked on blue.

“NO. No. You don’t get to pull this again.” John muttered, turning away. “You have NO right. You relinquished that right long ago when you toyed with me! All you ever said to me back then were lies!”

“If you’re so certain of that, then look me in the eye John.” Bruce pleaded.

“Shut up. You have no right to call me that.”

“Why can’t you look at me?”

“SHUT UP.”

“John..”

There was a whirl of movement. Bruce closed his eyes, bracing himself for the blow that he knew was coming. Instead there was a soft thud as a dagger buried itself in the wall next to him. Bruce opened his eyes. The blade had missed his head by a mere couple of inches.

“I hate you.” hissed John, his eyes glinting with fury.

“Then take it out on me.” Bruce offered. “Do whatever you want with me. I won’t resist.”

“I’ll break every bone in your body one by one,” John snarled, grabbing Bruce by the cape and dragging him forward. “I’ll gouge your heart out and feed it to the dogs. Then I’ll gas everyone in this goddamn wretched city that you seem to care about so much. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No, that’s too easy. I should gas them all one by one and make you fucking WATCH.”

Bruce offered no resistance, only looked at him sadly. His gaze flicked downwards, then up and found their mark.

Suddenly Bruce saw stars as a resounding slap landed on the side of his face.

“And I don’t. Need. Your goddamn pity either!” John seethed.

Bruce shook his head, his ears ringing. “That wasn’t pity John.” he said quietly.

“Mockery then.” John spat out distastefully. “Or derision. It’s all the same with you people.”

“No.” proffered Bruce softly. “you misunderstand.”

John’s eyes narrowed, “And what, pray tell, don’t I understand?”

Bruce’s heart thudded almost painfully in his chest. Seized by a sudden boldness, he reached up with one hand, grasping John by one gloved wrist. John froze. Bruce slipped a finger under the glove, and when John made no move to slap him, pressed upwards, kneading slow circles against the palm of John’s hand.

Finally John broke the silence. “What do you think you’re–”

It was now or never. Bruce closed the remaining distance between them, bringing their lips together.

John’s eyes widened, then with renewed fury, he shoved Bruce against the wall, pinning him down with surprising strength. Bruce remained pliant as an insistent tongue forced its way between his lips, plundering his mouth greedily. One hand buried itself in his hair, tugging almost painfully on the short raven locks; another made it’s way down his chest, scrabbling almost frantically against the plating of his armor. Bruce melted into the kiss, pushing back. He drew John towards him; could almost hear the blood rushing in his ears as their hearts beat in synchronicity, so tantalizingly close to each other. For that brief moment in time Bruce wondered if he could just lose himself in this bizarre, intoxicating, endlessly frustrating and infuriating man; and damn all the consequences. He brought his arms up around John, clinging to him with a fierce, unknown desperation.

Suddenly, John pulled away. He blinked slowly, a guarded look coming over him.

“So..so that’s it huh?” he said scornfully. “you think that’s your get out of jail free card? You think you can just fuck around with me and you think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?”

John started backing away, staggering as though drunk. “Godammit, I’m such a massive fool aren’t I? Heh. How stupid. What a stupid ridiculous way to..” He bent over, erupting in a fit of giggles. The sound grew louder, rising into a full blown cacophony of manic cackling. “I hate it.” his voice was now hysterical. “I hate it so much.” John slipped to the floor, his knees buckling beneath him.

“John?” Bruce offered tentatively. He walked slowly towards the supine man. John covered his mouth with one hand, the other waving him away derisively. “Well, go ahead then. You win. Arrest me, or y’know. Whatever it is you were going to do anyway.”

“No.”

John propped himself up into a kneeling position, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “W..Well. Aren’t we just full of surprises today. You got me. Now what else do you want?”

“I’m letting you go this time.”

John rolled his eyes. “You’re not serious. I’ll kill again. Maybe this time I’ll finally get your prize birdy..what was her name hmm. Brittany? Tiffy? Something like that? You think she’ll look good wearing her insides round her neck?”

Bruce ignored him. He stood in front of John, arms folded resolutely.

“You can go.”

“You’re serious.”

John got to his feet shakily. “You know,” he muttered as he started for the door. “whoever dies this time will be on you. And as you sit there in the dark all by your lonesome crying and blaming yourself for your miserable failures, I will be somewhere out there laughing at your ineptitude.”

“I know”, said Bruce gently. “It’s just that.” Bruce sighed, looking down at his palms. When he spoke now his voice was almost a whisper. “There was a time once, when I knew a man by the name of John Doe. He was the strangest, sweetest, most earnest and charming man I ever knew, and for a moment..” he shook his head. “I thought that maybe, just maybe. There was a time that..I might..have even been able to love him.”

There was a crackling in the air like static electricity.

“How dare..” floated John’s voice from across the room.

“How dare you.” repeated John, but his voice held no real menace now. It sounded like it came from afar.

Bruce felt the world start to spin, his bones starting to fill with lead.

“Fuck you.” the words were even more distant now.

"You..you bastard. You ruined everything. No.. Maybe I did? Did I?"

“Why couldn’t you have trusted me Bruce? Why? Was it so..so difficult for you? Why couldn’t you have trusted me?!”

Those were the last words he heard before blackness washed over him.

* * *

Batman stood on a rooftop, the hum of the busy streets below him and the GCPD’s radio blaring into his earpiece. The Joker hadn’t been sighted in weeks, not since the day he had woken up in a deserted scrap yard, fully dressed and re-equipped. Even his batarangs had been returned, with the marked exception of one. An old memory pricked at his consciousness.

There was a chill in his bones, but it wasn’t the chill of the night air, or the weariness of his soul.

Over and over the words rattled. “Why couldn’t you have trusted me?”

“I don’t know.” he said to no one in particular, the shadow of regret long and heavy.

The comm link crackled. An explosion at the docks. Sirens and gunfire.

The bat took wing. The night was still young.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce stood grimly in the shadow of the old carnival, glaring sullenly at the man before him. 

“Game’s over, Joker. Why did you take Gordon?”

“You know very well why..darling.” John hissed, curling the endearment around his tongue like it was some kind of deadly poison. “You asked for it. Do whatever you want.” he giggled. “And what better way to hurt the Bat than through that big ol’ bleeding heart of his? Does it hurt darling? Do you want dear old uncle J to kiss it and make it better?” 

Bruce grit his teeth in frustration. “The girl.” 

John made an expression of mock alarm. “What kind of monster do you take me for? I originally thought of shooting her in the spine because paraplegics are always funny but well.. I settled for just a few incriminating pictures instead. Oh don’t worry Batsy, why the long face? I didn’t do anything naughty to her! I swear! Scout’s honor!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of this?” growled Bruce. “I do.” 

“This again eh? Aren’t you a little young for a midlife crisis? Been in the industry too long huh? Need a change of scenery? You know I’ve heard that acquiring a new skillset can really help you empower yourself. Dr Leland used to say that--” 

“You know what I mean.” Bruce cut in brusquely. 

“No I don’t.”

“Don’t be obstinate.”

They stared at each other. Each one daring the other to back down.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous Bats.” said John, breaking the impasse. “There’s no other way things can possibly go down. There’s no other way for this. For us.” he gestured between them. “You know damn well as I do that after all I’ve done, there’s *nothing* left except this.”

“You haven’t tried.” insisted Bruce.

“What else can I possibly do Batsy dearest? I’m a murderer, a fiend, a maniac. You’ve heard what the doctors all say! It’s my very nature! Being dastardly is built into the core of my being. You can’t ask the tides to stop turning or the four winds to stop blowing now can you?” John winked, grinning crookedly. 

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then you’re dumber that I thought, and that’s why you’ll never stop me. You’ll never, truly be able to stop me.” He brought a hand to his head and gestured, mimicking the action of a gun firing, smiling the whole time.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what Bats?” taunted John. 

“Please John. Stop this. I don’t want it to ever come to that. I could never--”

“This nonsense again.” sneered John. “Groveling is unbecoming of you. It’s pathetic. Absolutely fucking pathetic.” 

Bruce reached to remove his cowl. At the movement, John turned his back to him immediately. Bruce continued, tossing the cowl onto the ground anyway.

“I killed hundreds, maybe thousands for you. I painted the streets of Gotham red. I did it all for you. In your honor, in your name. At the altar of the Great Bat did I present my tribute. You would sully my offering of blood with this insult?” John raised his arms in the air, posturing for an imaginary audience. “Has my Lord lost his mind?!” He spun around to face him. “Has he fallen from his lofty perch, ready to consort with the riff-raff of the gutters?” His voice was acid, his words stinging like shards. 

“This is a disgrace. A complete and utter disgrace.” He looked down at his own hands. Feverishly, he peeled the gloves off and held his palms out. “These hands are eternally tainted you fool! This will never wash away. Never!..And you want what..what is it that you want with me?” John was rambling now. He drew himself close in a once familiar manner, head down, arms clutched close to his heart. “You would lower yourself to..do that? With a monster? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should be ashamed of yourself.” the words fell from his lips like a mantra. “You should be ashamed--”

“Stop it John!” Bruce pleaded again. He walked up to John and grabbed his arm, and was rewarded with a resounding slap. 

“Stop? Stop you say?” John turned his chin up defiantly, green eyes alight. “Do you think I’m still that starry eyed awestruck idiot, the one who’d follow you around like a little lost puppy? You’ve got some nerve buddy.” 

“John please.” Another slap. 

“John.” A kick to the shins. “I know I made mistakes.” Bruce continued determinedly, enduring the blows that kept on coming.

“And if I..could change..the past, I’d do so in a heartbeat. But. I can’t.” 

There was a pause.

“But I can change the future. We. We can change the future. It doesn’t have to end that way. We don’t have to kill each other. Please John. Let me help you.”

John had stopped moving now and was staring at some point behind Bruce’s head.

“What makes you think you can fix me Bruce?” he said, his voice flat and gaze empty.

Bruce looked at the ground, becoming aware that something was dripping down his face. Blood? The heavens opened just then. Blood mixed with water, running a burning trail down his cheeks. He forced himself to look John in the eye.

“I’m not saying that I can fix you.” he began. “I’m not saying that I can work miracles, no one can.”

“What I’m saying is. I’m asking you to trust *me* John.” he took John’s hands in his, holding them steady. One pair pale, bare and slender, the other large and covered in black. Polar opposites, sun and moon; yin and yang. Quintessentially paradoxical and yet undeniably complementary.

“Please. Just give me a little faith.”

“You’ve *really* got some nerve buddy.” came the quiet reply, but it was now weak and bereft of venom, as though the rain had washed it right out of him, causing the colors to run.

“That’s what you like about me, isn’t it?” Bruce dared to quip. He sensed the energy changing around him, dancing like tendrils of lightning in a storm.

“You..you son of a..you b--”

John’s body began to shake, and it wasn’t just from the cold and the rain, or from the frigid chasm in that place where his heart had once been.

A strong pair of arms came up around him, and suddenly he was enveloped by a crushing, warm presence. John’s shoulders slumped, overcome by an interminable weariness. Vitalized by the rain, something small, delicate and fragile burst forth; sprouted, and took root. In that one moment of sheer foolish, reckless abandon, he let go of the wire and leaned forward, falling headlong into that perilous, dark unknown.


End file.
